


Talon's Grasp

by BlueNightingale



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, The Last Ship (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Daemons, Eventual Romance, F/M, mandatory Daemon!AU every fandom needs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4479554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueNightingale/pseuds/BlueNightingale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel paused for a moment as she loaded supplies onto the U.S. Naval Destroyer that was to be her ride up to the Arctic.  A few wing beats thumped through the air above, followed by a quiet rustling in the wind. One of the nearby sailors helping her caught the movement and chuckled quietly.</p><p>“Oh don't mind her, Dr. Scott.  That's just the Captain's Harpy eagle conducting one of her flybys.”  The sailor gave her a grin and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper.</p><p>“Just between you and me, I think she likes to patrol when she gets bored.  Either way, it keeps the crew on their toes while she's around.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Phase Six Part I

**Author's Note:**

> For those who haven't read His Dark Materials - A Note on Dæmons: 
> 
> Dæmons are the external physical manifestation of a person's soul, that takes the form of an animal. Dæmons have human intelligence, are capable of human speech and usually behave as though they are independent of their humans. Prepubescent children's dæmons can change form voluntarily, almost instantaneously, to become any creature, real or imaginary. During their adolescence a person's dæmon undergoes "settling", an event in which that person's dæmon permanently and involuntarily assumes the form of the animal which the person most resembles in character. Dæmons and their humans are almost always of different genders. 
> 
> Dæmons frequently interact with each in other in ways that mirror the behavior of their humans, such as fighting one another when their humans are fighting, or nuzzling one another when their humans embrace, and such contact between dæmons is unremarkable. 
> 
> "The worst breach of etiquette imaginable" is for a human to touch another person's dæmon; even in battle, most soldiers would never touch an enemy's dæmon, though exceptions can be made (such as between lovers). The physical handling of a dæmon causes vulnerability and weakness in the person whose dæmon is being touched, suggesting a sexual element to human-dæmon contact. However, dæmons can touch other dæmons freely; interactions between dæmons usually accentuate and illuminate the relationships between the characters, and can also be used as a means of passing information between humans without being overheard.

     

     Rachel paused for a moment as she loaded supplies onto the U.S. Naval Destroyer that was to be her ride up to the Arctic. A few wing beats thumped through the air above, followed by a quiet rustling in the wind. Darkness fell, and she looked up just in time to be enveloped by a silent shadow passing overhead, before the massive form faded from her sight into the blinding light of the sun. 

     Callidus hissed in agitation and dipped instinctively beneath the collar of her shirt. Rachel held her hand up over her shoulder protectively, ducking slightly behind the large cargo crate beside her. One of the nearby sailors helping her with supplies caught the movement and chuckled quietly.

“Oh don't mind her, Dr. Scott. That's just the Captain's Harpy eagle conducting one of her flybys.” The sailor gave her a grin and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper.

“Just between you and me, I think she likes to patrol when she gets bored. Either way, it keeps the crew on their toes while she's around.”

     Rachel gave him an irritated huff and turned away, running a finger soothingly over Callidus' head where it poked out at the dip of her neck.

“The last thing we need is some entitled feather-brain flapping about while we try to collect specimens in _secret_.” He murmured softly in her ear.

     Rachel sighed and glanced over, where she could see several white clad officers milling about next to the gangplank, greeting the boarding sailors and overseeing the various cargo being loaded onto the ship. She didn't like the secrecy of this expedition, although she understood the necessity of it. The anxiety was already beginning to nibble at her thoughts.

“I know, Cal. But we'll make do. We have to. Our mission is too important to fail.”

     She shared a loaded gaze with her dæmon for a long moment as they both remembered the events of Egypt, before he dipped his head and nodded to her in agreement. Then the slender Taipan circled down her arm and moved over to the crates that held several of their lab mice, in order to reassure himself they were still doing well.

     She returned her attention to the boxes and crates of equipment currently being loaded onto the ship. One of the officers had told her she would be setting her things up in their helicopter bay, since it was one of the few spaces on the ship protected by the elements, yet still big enough to house her expansive mobile lab. There was still much to be done.

 

     Commander Thomas Chandler made his was slowly towards the empty hangar his Executive Officer informed him would be housing the two scientists from the CDC for the duration of their mission in the Arctic. He kept half an eye on his dæmon Laelia as she made slow passes over their Destroyer, checking on the tactical readiness of the ship and her crew. Every so often she would return to perch on his shoulder and whisper in his ear, status reports on various weapons, crew member updates and any logistical issues the men were encountering.

     That was how he had learned of one Dr. Rachel Scott, her assistant Dr. Quincy Tophet, and their massively inconvenient and real estate hogging medical laboratory that was, apparently, about to take over the entirety of his first helicopter bay. Why in the world the CDC had felt that it was necessary to shoehorn her onto his ship and surround her with the most advanced, deadly and effective weapons and equipment that the Navy currently deployed, he had no idea. But it certainly made him wonder, and it made him worry.

     He gave the various boxes and equipment filling up the hanger bay a skeptical look. Live animals? Why did she need those? What kind of tests was she planning to run? The sheer number of bio-hazard signs he saw plastered on all of her boxes and every surface he might have laid a hand on made his brow furrow in concern. The man standing next to him unpacking what looked like a hazmat suit didn't give him any reassurance either.

     He heard the venerable Dr. Scott before he saw her. She was hovering over crewmen Evans who was attempting to move some of her crates farther into the bay, a beleaguered look on his face as she instructed him to “be careful.” Finally she noticed him standing at the front of the hangar and turned to greet him.

     Damn, but she was gorgeous. Tom felt himself blink in surprise, trying to reel his emotions back under control. For a women with three separate college degrees, two of them being doctorates, he had been expecting someone a little bit... older, and grayer, maybe with a white lab coat. And she, he thought wryly, was certainly none of those.

“You must be my new house guests.” He grinned at them. “Welcome aboard the _Nathan James_.”

     In the next moment he felt the slight downdraft and quiet whoosh of air as Laelia came in for an impressive landing upon his right shoulder. He widened his stance to accommodate her bulk and straightened up, tucking his cover under his arm and clasping his hands behind his back. Tom fought to hold in his smirk as Laelia loosed a piercing cry, spreading her impressive wingspan and temporarily blocking about half the sunlight in the room before she tucked herself away. What a drama queen.

“Do you think I scared them?” She whispered mischievously into his ear. Judging by the looks on their faces, she had. He felt his grin grow wider.

“I'm Commander Chandler, ship's captain.” He gestured over his shoulder. “And Laelia.”

     Dr. Scott shook his hand politely and gave Laelia an admiring glance.

“Oh, she's beautiful Captain.” Rachel's warm hazel eyes met with his own and held his gaze calmly. “You have a lovely dæmon.”

     Laelia's plumage ruffled at the compliment. The great eagle turning her head to eye the doctor with renewed interest.

“Thank you, Ma'am,” she said, her quiescent voice ringing out quiet as a bell, as she dipped her beak to the pretty doctor. The doctor smiled back and introduced herself.

“Rachel Scott.” She gestured beside her to the other scientist that had accompanied her. “And my assistant, Dr. Tophet.” The man gave him a nod, his diminutive chameleon dæmon peeking out from behind his shoulder, her colors fading into his shirt.

     Tom gave them both a welcoming glance before he returned his gaze to the boxes Quincy was unpacking, and the hazmat suit. He felt his worry return.

“I'm sorry we had to take over your helicopter bay, Captain. But it was the only space large enough to accommodate our lab.”

     Tom nodded absently in understanding and watched her unpack a plastic cage that had two mice scurrying about inside of it. Beside him Laelia perked up a bit and turned her head to eye the rodents with interest. Rachel noticed her attention and hugged the little cage closer to her chest protectively, giving them both a hard look. From atop the crate she had been standing next to, a slender form rose up, swaying slowly back and forth before arching its body protectively over the mice.

     Both Tom and Laelia froze in momentary surprise, having not noticed her dæmon there previously. It was a snake, and a large one at that. At least 5 feet long and probably longer, Tom estimated with a cursory glance. He was a beautiful golden yellow color, with smaller black scales in diagonal rows aligned to form broken chevrons inclined backward and downward across the span of his back. Where he curved around Tom spotted slightly lighter straw colored scales on his belly.

     Two jewel like black eyes turned to regard them reproachfully, the serpent poising himself proudly above them, before he gave a flick of his forked tongue and turned away to wrap his slender body carefully about the mice cage, encircling the plastic container and resting his head proprietorially on top of it. Both he and Rachel shot them an identical defiantly challenging glare. Despite his best effort, Tom felt the corners of his mouth twitch up in amusement, while Laelia bobbed her head side to side.

“I've got 217 men and women aboard this ship.” He rapped his knuckles against the nearest bio-hazard sign smartly.

“Anything I should be... _concerned_ about?”

     He turned his eyes back to the doctor and her dæmon, watching them closely for any sort of reaction to his more direct and confrontational question. He wasn't disappointed as Dr. Scott flinched imperceptibly, drawing back slightly while her daemon downright _hissed_ at him. The viper made a jerky forward motion, before drawing back and up, winding in on himself in a vaguely defensive gesture.

     Clearly, _yes_ there was something to be concerned about. Having his worst fears confirmed, Tom felt his lips thin out as her expression answered all his questions for him. As to _what_ that was, she seemed unwilling, or unable, to tell him. Even the orders briefing he'd been handed down from the Admiralty had been disturbingly vague, leaving him to wonder what they had been leaving out, and why they felt it necessary to do so. Dr. Tophet read her face as clearly as he did, for he rushed to interject himself before his erstwhile partner could completely destroy any pretense of secrecy.

“What, this stuff?” He asked, holding out his hasmat suit calmly. “That's just so we don't contaminate our samples. Not the other way around.” He answered innocently.

     He was a better liar than Dr. Scott, at any rate. Tom would have bought it too, if he hadn't already seen his partner's face. He glanced between the two of them accusingly.

“What exactly are you two going to be studying up there?”

     They both looked away from him now, seemingly realizing he wasn't buying anything they were trying to sell. Rachel huffed out a breath and answered stubbornly.

“Birds.”

     Her dæmon left his perch and wound his way around her arm and up her shoulder. Draping himself about her neck like a great glittering piece of jewelry, all the while staring out at them balefully. Tom felt his eyebrows shoot up as Laelia resettled her wings across her back a few times, returning the serpent's glare with fierce look of her own.

“Birds?” Tom muttered in disbelief. He turned his head to see if Laelia had just heard the same type of bullshit he had. She met his eye and cocked her head in astonishment.

“We are virologists.” Rachel continued, pretending she hadn't heard his objection. “Tracking obscure microbes in hard to get to places. Pretty boring stuff, actually.”

     She turned her tone dismissive, trying her hardest to convey a sense of harmlessness and triviality about their work. But she could already tell, from the look on his face and the aggressive posture his eagle had taken beside him, with her head slightly hunched and her wings half raised to make herself appear larger, that he didn't believe her. That he already knew the exact opposite was true.

     Rachel felt desperation and a mild sense of panic set in. This infuriating sea captain read her like on open book and was proceeding to shred through their cover like wet paper. The Secretary of the Navy had called her personally to reassure her was assigning the most competent crew on the most formidable ship that the Navy could currently offer her, but she simply hadn't been expecting this.

“We weren't expecting _him._ ” Callidus ruefully corrected, quietly at her ear.

     That was unacceptable. She needed time to complete her vital research in the Arctic. Billions of lives were at stake. No matter how loyal the crew or steadfast the Captain could prove himself to be, she didn't believe their ship would remain idle on the roof of the world as they watched their families endure the suffering and decimation of the virus.

     Her work _had_ to remain secret, and the Captain was far too clever for his own good. Any additional lies she could possibly attempt would only further damage her respect in his eyes, especially when he could so obviously see right through her. She shared a startled glance with Callidus as she reviewed that last thought.

     What did she care for the opinion of this man?

     But she did. He had known her for all of two minutes, and for some reason she found herself caring about whether or not this man respected her. She could tell by the way everyone around him reacted to his presence, that he commanded the highest regard from his officers and his crew. Just as obvious was the fact that he held himself to those same high standards, never asked his crew to sacrifice something he himself would not, and lead them into battle firmly from the front.

     Callidus began to wind over himself around her neck, betraying her nervousness with his gesture. Even this, immediately attracted the eye of both the Captain and his eagle. The two of them uniformly flicking their eyes down to Callidus and then up to her face, coolly continuing to analyze her reactions.

     Why did she feel threatened by this man? And why was he _still here?_ Callidus ducked his head to hide beneath her hair. Rachel fought to keep her teeth from grinding, and continued with what she hoped didn't sound too patronizing.

“We really do appreciate your assistance, Captain Chandler.”

     Tom forced himself to retreat at her statement, hearing the implied dismissal and the slight wavering in her voice near the end. He had intended to garner her trust with this visit, but instead he'd inflicted the opposite reaction. Any further questioning on his part would only serve to unsettle her more.

     Now the woman he was supposed to be providing protection and support for as she completed her work in the arctic only looked at him with suspicion. He released a frustrated breath as Laelia cooed soothingly at them in reassurance. Then Tom regarded them with a conciliatory glance, injecting as much contrition into his voice as possible.

“We're here to serve, Dr. Scott.”

     He met her eyes gently, and the eyes of her dæmon that had finally peeked his head out from beneath her hair. With that, he took a firm step back, giving them their space once more. Dipping his head, he replaced his cover with deliberate slowness, feeling Laelia launch herself back out into the sunlight.

     When he looked back up, he was relieved to see she had now calmed, gently stroking her serpent's head where he rested beside her ear. He threw a last considering glance at her partner, who had observed the rest of their exchange in speculative silence. Then he took himself from the hangar.

It was going to be a long deployment.

 

FOUR MONTHS LATER

 

     Rachel watched the pair of Navy SEALs from Team Two approaching on their snowmobiles and tried to hold in her snarl. Tucked deep inside her parka with his length wrapped around her torso for warmth, Callidus hissed his displeasure, only daring to poke the tip of his nose from the edge of her scarf. They were surrounded on all sides by endless plains of snow and ice, high above the arctic circle. It was ungodly cold out.

     The two SEALs continued on towards them like they were taking a stroll through the park. Rachel couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy towards their dæmons, both of whom were perfectly suited to the environment and looking like they were having the time of their lives.

     Lt. Green's carefree German Sheppard romped along beside his snowmobile, sending up clouds of snow, her tongue lolling out lazily to taste the crispy air. A moment later a large black wolf darted in to nudge her shoulder, pushing her hard enough to send her tumbling rump over muzzle off into a snowbank. With a yip and a jump the wolf darted away, hiding behind the other snowmobile that was carrying Lt. Benz.

     Rachel rolled her eyes. Those two needed something to keep them occupied while she and Quincy finished their work. She was so close! With the approaching noise and the presence of two large canines, most of the nearby Terns in their area took flight in a tumultuous multitude of flapping and squawking. Lt. Green eyed the birds sheepishly and called down to her and Quincy.

“Ma'am! We've been trying to reach you. CO wants you back on the ship!”

     Rachel gave them both a hard look, trying to convey her displeasure at the interruption.

“You can tell the Captain that I'll return when I'm ready.”

     The two SEALs paused at that, sharing a long look. Beside them both their dæmons came up to stand at their left flanks, giving the scientists below an alert assessment. Lt. Benz stepped forward to address her.

“Wasn't an invitation ma'am. Right now. Captain's orders.”

     A moment later a piercing cry rang out from the skies above. All of the remaining Arctic Terns promptly took wing and scrambled away in a madly screaming flock. Rachel sighed as she watched them depart, glancing upwards, already knowing what she'd see.

     The Captain's giant Harpy eagle swooped around, passing high over the flock of Terns trying desperately to escape her clutches, before swooping down low over the SEAL's heads and making a pass directly above her. She dropped low enough to make eye contact with Rachel, and for a moment she stared directly into the fierce silver eyes. The raptor let loose another angry cry, leaving no mistake as to her displeasure. Then she was past Rachel, working her great wings to gain altitude in a wheeling turn. She circled once, inspecting their site, before turning to wing her way back to the ship.

     That. Infuriating. Man. She was going to give him an earful about this. Callidus chuckled next to her, having poked his head out of her hood to watch the magnificent bird circle. He flicked his tongue to tickle her ear teasingly, then tucked himself back into her warmth.

 

“Captain!”

     Tom paused on his trip down the P-way, halfway between one bulkhead and the next, his XO close at his shoulder. Laelia made a dissatisfied harrumph from beside him as he shared a knowing glance with Mike. There was only one woman on this ship that could dare to address him with such a tone of frustration and contempt, and she was certainly not one of his crewmen.

     Sure enough, he spotted her come storming down the P-way towards him, stopping directly in his path in order to block the narrow corridor. She gave him an angry glare and crossed her arms, her viper rising from her shoulder to loom above him, swaying forward in a threatening manner.

“Captain Chandler, you had no right to pull me from my work.”

     Laelia paced from one foot to the other, eying the woman in amazement, while Mariana, Mike's coyote dæmon, yipped in laughter. Tom shot Mike and Ana a quelling glance, and turned his attention back to the doctor. He felt his XO retreat backward a few steps, interjecting tentatively.

“I'm gonna go check on the, uh...”

     Tom tried to contain his amusement, nodding ruefully and gesturing off with his head in a tacit permission for dismissal.

“Yeah.”

     His XO wasn't always the most tactful, or diplomatic, when it came to women. Then again, that was one of the reasons he'd made CO when Mike hadn't. Dr. Scott only looked further incensed at the exchange, her Taipan snaking his way up to the overhanging pipes and slithering his way directly over Laelia, hanging his head within striking range.

“Those men are here to support _me_.” She continued, her words grinding out. “You don't send them to bring me in.”

     Tom tilted his head back a little, pursing his lips as he absorbed the arrogance of that statement. Despite himself, he felt his own irritation begin to rise. Replying as evenly as possible, he refuted her claim.

“Those men are sailors in the US Navy, and report directly to me.”

“I say when I'm done and ready!” She burst out, her serpent taking a few nips in the air at Laelia's direction.

“My work is vital here, and I have finally found what I'm looking for! Despite, may I add, the constant hovering from your horde and their beasts, scaring off all the birds and making my job twice as hard. Not to mention your giant chicken fluttering about, scattering the wildlife into permanent exile.”

     Rachel paused to take a breath, gathering herself for what looked like round two of her tirade. Laelia gently held out a wing, carefully pushing the hanging snake out and away from her face, the creature hissing angrily at her motions. Tom rushed in before she could continue, hoping to head her off before she became unreasonable.

“Doctor!” He called chidingly.

“First of all, thanks for checking in.” He shot her a sardonic grin. “I think this is the first time either of you have said more than three words to me since we left Norfolk.”

     Which was quite the accomplishment, when you considered how small the ship seemed after living in such tight quarters for months on end, and his best efforts to include both her and Dr. Tophet as part of their crew. He hoped it wasn't because of their initial conversation that she felt it necessary to hide from him like this, though he feared otherwise. Tom's every invite had been declined. She'd refused to join any of the officers for meals despite the rudeness of her refusal.

“Well, I am sorry that I haven't had you over for tea.” She sniped haughtily, glancing up at her dæmon who was childishly swinging his body back and forth from the pipes, snapping at Laelia every time he swayed in her direction.

     The Harpy eagle endured his continued harassment with less and less patience, her shoulders hunching up in irritation. Every time his face came anywhere near her, she batted him away with a wing, becoming progressively less gentle about it. Her actions just made him swing more crazily about the pipes, until at last he curled his head up, bringing him exactly to eye level with Tom.

     The two of them regarded each other curiously for a moment, Tom absently noticing that his scales had darkened with the winter, bleeding into a rich honeyed chocolate tone, his face and the tip of his tail almost black. Tom frowned at him for a moment, addressing the doctor while keeping his eyes trained on her dæmon.

“Is he.. uh, poisonous?”

     The dæmon in question leaned even closer to his face, forcing Tom to lean back a little in return. The snake flicked out his tongue at him once, slowly and with contempt. Then he spoke, just one word, allowing Tom to hear his voice for the very first time.

“Rude.”

     Tom blinked at him, nonplussed. His voice was lighter and warmer than he had been expecting, and despite his statement he had sounded almost, amused? Laelia raised her ruff in indignation. Tom couldn't help a tiny grin, sensing a kindred spirit in the willful serpent and his spitfire partner.

“You know...” He finally continued, wryly. “Your attitude was mildly charming back in Virginia, but up here, pushing 50 below, when none of us have talked to our families in four months...”

     He met her eyes and felt her gaze burn into his own, not backing down an inch. Stubborn woman. His own eyes turned hard, hammering home the point he was trying to make.

“Not so charming.”

     Her snake hissed, twitching and coiling in fury. She jumped in before he could continue, her voice raising in volume.

“Yeah, well, charm wasn't exactly my prior-- “ He held up a hand, cutting her off right there.

“Still talking.” He warned her softly. “Now, I think I've been more than a gracious host, taxiing you and your assistant all around the islands here so you could chase after your ducks.”

     She shot him a dirty look. Yeah, alright, maybe that was a low blow. Laelia ducked her head down a bit, sheepishly. This scientist was making them both frustrated.

“Arctic terns.” She corrected, acidly.

     Then she held out her arm, seeming to admit defeat for now, letting the viper curl down from overhead. Her dæmon regarded her for a moment, the both of them reading their intentions off each other.

“He is, you know.” She couldn't help but add, vindictively.

     Tom raised his eyebrow in question. She held up her dæmon before him proudly, his dark form now coiled tightly about her arm in comfort.

“Callidus is a Western Taipan. Drop for drop, they're the single most venomous snake in the world.”

     The Captain pursed his lips at that, nonetheless taking a judicious step back. Couldn't hurt to give them their space right? Though he was sure neither she or nor Callidus would ever hurt anyone aboard his vessel. Laelia unfurled her wings, blocking off the corridor and partially hemming the scientist in.

“You need to wrap it up.” He stated gently, but firmly. “Our mission is done here, and we'll be heading back.”

     He moved past her down the P-way, but ducked down at the last second to whisper cheekily in her ear.

“Oh, and I'll take a rain check on the tea.”

     He tried not to enjoy it too much when she shivered at his close proximity. He was a married man, but he wasn't _dead_. Quickly pulling back, he ran away down the corridor before she could retaliate, laughing out loud at the sounds of Callidus hissing and spitting in outrage. Laelia's joyous cawing echoed after them down the hallway.

 

     Tom leaned over the communications terminal, pressing the headset close to his ears. Laelia hunched beside him to hear anything he may have missed from the comm.

“I repeat, mission objectives achieved. We are ready to come home. Over.”

     There was an uncharacteristic pause on the other end. What was going on with OPNAV? The Pentagon hadn't been as forthcoming as usual even before their mission started four months ago.

“That's a negative, Commander. The mission has been extended. Over.” Tom leaned back in consternation, sharing an incredulous look with his dæmon.

“Extended?” He questioned sharply. “Why?”

     He tried to keep his voice modulated in a respectful tone, but judging by the Deputy Chief's sharpened response, hadn't succeeded.

“Maintain EMCON alpha at current positioning until you receive further instructions.”

     The timer above them clicked over, indicating their window for encrypted satellite communication had just closed. Dammit. Tom threw his headset down in disgust, Laelia headbutting his ear in consolation. Communications Officer Mason glanced over from behind him, speaking hesitantly.

“Transmission terminated, sir.”

     He nodded back to show he'd heard, trying to keep his disappointment from his face. Mason's dæmon, an adorably fuzzy looking Brown Long-eared Bat gave a few dejected peeps anyway, turning her tiny face to stare at them imploringly. Laelia cooed to her, holding out a wing to run a feather-tip soothingly over her tiny form.

     Tom sighed and stood up, moving slowly for the exit of his CIC. There was only one possible explanation for this, and she was currently sitting one deck above in his helo bay. The Commander headed back up to the bridge, reconsidering how much pull she might have with OPNAV.

     These orders had just come down from the Chief of Naval Operations himself and his associated admiralty. This meant the Joint Chiefs were following his mission at the very least, and more than likely, SECNAV and the President. Tom blew his breath out slowly, resisting the urge to march down there and demand answers. If it was EMCON only, then he wasn't meant to know. He shared a worried glance with Laelia.

“What the hell is that woman doing?”

 

“Quincy, I think we've got it!” Rachel exclaimed, triumph infusing her voice.

     She turned back to share her joy at the miraculous discovery with her unwavering research partner. They'd had a few extremely long, cold and difficult months up here in the arctic, with desperation and urgency nipping at their heels the entire trip. She deeply appreciated her partner's courage and fidelity under the trying circumstances. That they had finally found what they'd been searching for made her soul feel five pounds lighter. Quincy and his chameleon Irina grinned back at her, content to share in the joy of the moment. Then Quincy's eyes shifted to something behind her, and his face morphed to fear.

“Rachel! Look out behind you!”

     She whirled around to see at least two attack helicopters approaching low and fast from the direction of the ice-flow. They were very different from the single gunship that had been ferrying them back and forth from the _Nathan James_ every day. Smaller and sleeker looking, painted pitch black and bristling all over with weapons and missiles.

“Quickly, Cal. The samples! We can't lose them now!” She gasped out, stumbling back towards their equipment.

“I've got it Rachel, get the case. We'll need it for transport.” He hissed urgently, shooting from her collar and scything quickly through the snow. He snapped about hurriedly, grabbing specimen tubes in his mouth here and there, nudging them into their padded and cooled protective case, Rachel and Quincy moving clumsily to help.

     Rachel turned to glance fearfully over her shoulder, judging how much time they had. The helicopters were almost upon them now. Distantly, she thought she heard the angry screaming of an eagle, but it might have been the pounding of her heart in her ears, the thudding drowning out everything else. There was a dull roar of thunder, and the air around her shuddered. Then one of the helicopters in front of her erupted in a plume of flame.

     Rachel felt the startling heat of the explosion scorch her face. Callidus wrapped around her chest, squeezing and twitching as the concussive blast of air knocked them back, leaving Rachel with no sound, save for the ringing in her ears. Slowly she managed to drag herself up, scrambling around until her fingers hit the hard plastic of their specimen case. She snatched it up, heaving herself into a crouched position with what felt like monumental effort. Behind her Quincy did the same, sparing a moment to check Irina before moving to blunder back towards their own helicopter, and their contingent of Navy SEALs.

     Rachel followed hot on his heels. A moment later, she saw the second helicopter clear the smoke and debris, swinging wide over the snow to turn and face them. Everything seemed to slow in an instant, the great black machine hanging over them like a specter of death. Rachel had a moment to register the complete helplessness and despair that transfused her thoughts. Then the helicopter opened fire. Rachel's world turned white.

 


	2. Phase Six Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! A nice action packed chapter for you guys! Thanks so much for your kind support and kudos. I'm always nervous writing in a new fandom. Also included minor edits to chapter one and added some pretty pictures!

     

 

     Commander Thomas Chandler gazed out at the barren island off their starboard bow, lost in thought. Laelia perched quietly on the back of his chair, the two situated perfectly to observe all the actions on the Bridge. Mike was sitting across the pilothouse in his own chair, Ana curled up around his feet fast asleep. After being ordered to remain in the arctic, with no specific duties save escorting the scientists, boredom and frustration was beginning to set in amongst the crew.

     They were deep within the Barents Sea, about 63 nautical miles northeast of Svalbard. Large sheets of ice floated past sedately. They had been lucky to find such an island, as the encroaching ice-flow crept ever nearer to their position. The _Nathan James_ was a stout ship, as seaworthy as the Navy came. But an icebreaker, she was not.

     Tom spared a moment to eye the last satellite images, keeping a wary eye on the latest position of the ice fields. They were on the very edge of a wide polynya in the northern sea. Whether or not Dr. Scott completed her research, their time here was limited. Soon it would become too treacherous, even for their hardy Destroyer, to navigate such waters. She had a week and a half remaining, three on the outside, before they risked being shred apart by the mile thick ice that perpetually broke from the Arctic ice shelf.

     Laelia gave a curious hum as the bridge phone rang, which his officer of the deck, Lt. Granderson moved promptly to answer, her elegant hummingbird dæmon trailing behind her. A moment later she held out the phone for him, with a calm murmur.

“Captain, your presence is requested in CIC. They have unknown aircraft approaching at 80 knots, currently 32 miles out.”

     He frowned at that, glancing first to Mike who was busy kicking Ana awake, then to Laelia as he stood and headed for the hatch leading below decks. Their location was far too remote for this to be any sort of coincidence. They could be friendlies, but that was looking unlikely as they hadn't identified themselves. He turned back to Slattery as Laelia hopped on his shoulder to accompany him below.

“Let them know I'm on my way, the rest of you stay sharp. XO has the Deck.”

“Aye, Captain.” Mike replied, sharing a long look with him, Ana coming alert, ears perked forward. “This is the XO, I have the Deck.” He announced befittingly to the bridge as Chandler moved toward the door.

     He could see the tension travel through the bridge, everyone responding as possible hostile aircraft approached. Officers checking and rechecking instrument readouts and weapons controls in anticipation, making him grin slightly. He had a good crew. Not wasting another moment, he headed down the ladders to CIC.

“If they're hostile, I'd guess that Dr. Scott and her _secret research_ are the most likely objectives.” Laelia murmured tensely in his ear, already thinking to the possible combat ahead. He could feel her talons kneading his shoulder in agitation. Tom nodded grimly, feeling a stab of worry for the doctor.

“Agreed, in which case they'll try for the island first, and our helo. They're the obvious targets. It would cut off her escape and give them time to take us out.” His voice hardened, as Laelia gave him a fierce look. “We'll just have to make sure they don't get the chance.”

  

     And then he was in CIC, the sudden hush and the gloom overtaking him, broken only by Comms Officer Mason's frequent and increasingly perturbed voice demanding the incoming aircraft identify themselves or be subject to defensive action, his dæmon fluttering about his head. Tom grabbed a headset and put it on, allowing him to communicate directly with both CIC and the bridge.

     His tactical action officer Lt. Foster turned to him as he approached. Her pretty face was set into hard lines, her Ring-tailed mongoose dæmon Leopold curled about her neck, his dark eyes meeting theirs with glittering determination. She addressed the situation immediately.

“Captain, five unknown aircraft, now 27 miles out approaching at 80 knots. They refuse to answer hails.”

     Five? Tom felt adrenalin spike through his system as the situation turned dynamic, Laelia spreading her wings partially as if she were about to spring into flight. He spared a moment to collect himself, exhaling slowly, then met Lt. Foster's eyes and held them decisively, issuing a string of commands as his ship entered combat.

“Set General Quarters.”

     Alarms blared throughout the ship as his crew was called to action, sailors scrambling madly to their battle stations, dæmons in a flurry of fur and feathers around them. Everyone knew their place and their purpose, general quarters having been drilled into them from the moment they stepped aboard. How swiftly a sailor reached his battle station could make all the difference, split seconds determining what was a hit and a sink or near miss in this modern age of naval warfare.

“Weapons hold, I repeat, weapons hold.” He warned, causing Laelia to huff in irritation. The aircraft hadn't yet been confirmed hostile. He was almost certain that they were, by this point, but such actions were the stuff of international incidents and a common cause of gray hair among naval Captains everywhere. 

“All engines ahead flank, hard left rudder. Deploy SCAT!” He ordered, sending his crew out with the large caliber machine-guns, specifically designed to take out light aircraft. The ship leaped beneath him, coming about hard to port. 

“CIWS to AAW Auto, hold fire off, spool up eight ESSM's.” He finished, readying their surface-to-air missiles for launch and setting their high powered Vulcan gun for anti-aircraft fire.

     Their precise targeting computers would track and kill anything that came within range, up to and including aircraft and missiles. The _James_ was ready, he could feel her purring beneath his feet, claws out, waiting to strike. She wanted battle. As the aircraft approached he shared a feral look with Laelia, her thrill for the hunt matching his own.

“New air contact 80234 at 015 out 36,000 yards. Evaluate as inbound missile!” Foster chimed out, Leopold crouching on the side of her station, reaching over to flip a switch as he stared intently at their Aegis radar arrays, tho two of them working together in perfect sync.

     Slattery deployed their CHAFF buoys from the bridge in countermeasure, giving the general alarm to brace for impact. Laelia caught his eye for a moment, feeling the shift. Now that they had been fired upon, there was no question that the incoming aircraft were here with harmful intentions, allowing him to retaliate at will.

“Assess all aircraft as hostile, weapons free. TAO,” he growled, “fire ESSM's one through six, target all air contacts. Take 'em out.”

“Aye, sir.” She replied, both her and Leopold scrambling over their Aegis systems to acquire firing solutions. “Firing.” Leo flipped up a switch and depressed a glowing button with his clever paws. Tom felt the whole ship shudder as the Vertical Launch System sent off six of their SeaSparrow missiles, plumes of fire trailing in their wake, the entire weather deck momentarily enveloped in smoke.

“Sparrow's one through four away.” Kara paused a moment, taking in readings on her instruments. “Sparrow's five and six away. We have a hit. Confirmed, inbound missile destroyed.”

     Tom let out a breath, following the action on his own radar array as the five remaining missiles continued towards the closing aircraft and found their targets. Laelia gave a small triumphant hoot as they watched the first two helicopters disappear from their radar screen, a third appearing to stop and swerve erratically.

“Sparrow's two through four report a hit, five and six are misses. Confirmed, two aircraft destroyed, moderate damage to the third, the other two are circling around behind the ice-flow.”

     This is what Tom had been afraid of. “They're trying to get to the island, to find Dr. Scott.” He hissed at Laelia, feeling his anger rise.

“It seems her research really _is_ their target.” Laelia whispered back, stunned.

“Fire ESSM seven, target damaged aircraft at 22 miles.” He ordered. The wounded helo would be easy pickings for their SeaSparrow now. However, the other two helicopters had gotten too close for surface-to-air missiles to be effective. They'd have to use guns.

“Aye, sir,” Foster complied. “Firing, Sparrow seven away.”

“Switch to the five-inch. Destroy all remaining air contacts.” He murmured, his voice carrying easily throughout the quiet CIC, only his voice and Foster's now breaking into the silence as the rest of the crew waited tensely, no one wanting to interfere between the Captain and his TAO during the action.

“Roger that sir, switching to the five-inch. Surface, TAO, kill track 5024. Sparrow seven reports a hit, confirmed third helo is destroyed.”

“Commo,” Chandler called out, speaking to Mason, “get Sentinel team on the line, warn them of inbound enemy aircraft. Have them retrieve both scientists immediately! I want our helo to be wheels up as soon as the last tango splashes down.”

“Sir.” Mason replied with a nod, jumping immediately onto the com to contact their SEAL team on the island.

     Tom turned back to Laelia, feeling his worry for the scientists increase as the helicopters used the ice-flow to try and hide from their artillery. That tactic wouldn't work for long, as his crew had been practicing these very maneuvers for the past four months and had no trouble picking out targets within the ice.

“Lee,” he hissed. “Do you think you can reach them?”

     She cocked her head, eying him knowingly. Most dæmons couldn't stray very far from their partner's side. But Tom and Laelia were different, ever since they'd been in an accident when they were little, allowing her to go much farther than was normal.

“You know I can.”

     He nodded quickly, still not sure he actually wanted to send her out there, but knowing she could make all the difference for the scientist's safety. He moved from his station to the CIC's door, opening it for her and climbing the ladders up to the main deck. Stepping outside, he held out his arm as she hopped down his shoulder, sparing her another glance.

“Make sure she gets back to the helo in one piece, and be careful, Lee.”

     She glared at that, reaching out with a wing to cuff him on the back of the head.

“Don't be a moron, we're both always careful. And last I checked, there were _two_ of them. At least one of us has to be the responsible one and look out for Dr. Tophet, you know… _that other guy._ ” He could hear the smirk in her voice and spared a moment to laugh at himself. Their eyes met fondly as Tom gazed at his other self. 

“I'll make sure she gets back the ship.” She added soberly, spreading her wings.

     He nodded gravely and took a step forward, heaving his arm around and launching her form into the sky.

 

     Rachel gasped for breath as she ran desperately through the snow, the sounds of the helicopter behind her getting closer as it opened fire. Callidus squeezed her almost harshly, digging into her chest as bullets whizzed by, kicking up shards of snow and ice ahead of her. She cried out in alarm, dodging sharply to the right, Quincy diving away on her other side.

     The sinister chopper stilled for a moment, hanging over the ice a scant few hundred yards away. Rachael's breath caught in terror as she watched several men in dark body armor drop from the vehicle, landing with agile grace onto the powdery snow, vicious looking dæmons beside them.

“They're trying to cut us off!” Cal shouted, “Stop us from getting back to the helicopter!”

“Keep going, Rachel!” Quincy screamed out behind her. “You have to make it back with the samples!”

“I know.” She whispered to herself, curling her body over the specimen case as much as she could. The startling sound of a wolf howling nearby made her heart leap in her chest. She turned to the nearby ridge in disbelief.

     Two snowmobiles burst over the rise in a spray of snow, the Navy SEALs appearing with roaring engines as they headed towards the scientists at full throttle. Two dark shadows ghosted alongside, sweeping out over the ice. Gone were all traces of the playfulness Rachel had grown so used to. The two canines moved in conformity with their partners, ears folded sharply down, ruff standing up in bushy spikes all along their spine, lips pulled back in a snarling rictus of glittering fangs. 

     The enemy soldiers opened fire as they approached, causing Rachel and Quincy to dive down in the snow, feeling puffs in the air as bullets whizzed by closely over their heads.

“Stay down!” Lt. Green shouted at them, both he and Benz forced to duck behind their snowmobiles for cover, returning fire at the advancing soldiers.

     Rachel sobbed as one of the dark figures fell back in a burst of red, his lynx dæmon instantaneously dissolving into a pile of dust beside him. Callidus clutched closer to her chest in horror, his length twitching about in shock. Lt. Benz used the momentary lull in fighting to line up the sites on his RPG, firing off a rocket at the hovering chopper.

     The helicopter tried to jerk away at the last moment, but it was too late. The rocket connected solidly with the tail rotor, sending the vehicle careening down in flames. The shuddering impact as the chopper came down nearby shook the ground. Flaming debris came raining from the sky, covering the area in deadly shrapnel and twisted hunks of metal.

     Rachel cried out as a piece of something sharp struck her on the back, smelling burnt plastic waft by as her coat smoldered. The hard plastic case holding her virus specimens was knocked involuntarily from her grasp. The case sent careening down the icy hill with the impact of debris. Callidus uttered a cry of outrage, plunging down after it before Rachel could grab him back. Feeling her heart constrict in a vice of dread the farther he slithered away from her.

     The soldiers saw the case too, making a sudden concerted push towards the box. Whatever was inside of it, they could tell it was important to her and therefore, valuable. But Callidus was faster. He wound down the slope, curving around rocks and ice with deceptive grace, never letting up, even when bullets kicked up the dirt inches from his side. Doggedly he made his way, reaching the case and winding himself around and about it, protectively. Rachel let out a ragged breath as he looked back at her, huddled low over the case. He'd die before he let anyone take it away from him, she knew.

“The case! We have to get it back!” She shouted frantically to the SEALs, gesticulating wildly with her arm to grab their attention from across the hill.

     She saw Benz turn his head for a moment, and pointed down frantically to the capsule below. He followed her gesture and spotted the box, or more specifically, her dæmon lying exposed beside it. He gave a shout of alarm, gesturing for a moment to Green before they both opened fire once more on the approaching soldiers. One of the men went down, mowed away by gunfire, his dæmon falling to dust beside him. But there were still three left. The commando in front kept creeping towards the crate, making his way ever closer, taking cover behind a rock outcropping. The other two hunkered down as best they could behind a few ice chunks, returning fire at the two SEALs, keeping them pinned down by the snowmobiles.

“ _Oh God_ , Rachel. The samples.” Quincy hissed at her shoulder, shuddering in terror.

     Something sinister and dark was rustling its way towards the plastic briefcase, heaving past the ice brutishly. The scraggly form meandered ever nearer to Callidus' position, tottering about almost listlessly. A wild boar, she realized, the enemy's dæmon, its tusks poking out cruelly beneath the bristled snout. The odd gait pattern served to avoid any of the gunfire that was perforating the valley. Rachel squinted down furiously, following its progress as Cal curled in on himself, presenting a smaller target for the enemy and tensing to strike quickly.

     All of a sudden the beast charged, lowering its head and sprinting through the gap between the rock cover and the container, clearly aiming to crush Callidus beneath sharp tusks and cleft hoofs before his own venomous fangs could find their mark. Rachel stared in horror, breath hitched painfully in the back of her throat, helpless to stop anything from happening.

     The boar dæmon hadn't even made it halfway through the gap, thundering down dauntlessly upon her viper's tiny hunched figure, before a dark gray patch detached itself from the sky. The form plummeted earthward from where it had been circling, hidden by the smoke and clouds, sinking through the air like a stone, silence and concentration written in every line of her body. The boar never saw her coming, never had an inkling of the silent death sweeping down from the skies.

     Rachel felt her jaw drop as the great eagle swooped low, enormous wings pinioned out to let her float effortlessly through the air. She passed over the enemy soldier, crouched futilely behind his rocks, closing on the beast with alarming swiftness. At the very last second, she pulled up, massive wings back-flapping to pitch her body backwards, her legs pushing out in front, wicked black talons stretching wide before her for one menacing moment.

     She fell upon her prey in an instant, deadly sharp claws sinking precisely into the boar's neck and spine up to the knuckle, smoothly lofting the dæmon up into the air after her, though the beast had to weigh at least 30 pounds. Matted fur and gore rained down along her flight path, the boar having time to loose one shrill terrified squeal before she twined away, talons clenching mercilessly.

     The dæmon dissolved to dust, slipping through her talons to spread over the ice below. In the sudden silence, the cry of the enemy soldier could be heard clearly. His figure, clad in a black tactical vest with his automatic rifle hanging uselessly, lurched up from behind the rocks, clutching achingly at his chest. He stumbled about blindly for a few seconds, making terrible moaning sounds, before falling limp upon the snow, the shock of his loss killing him rapidly.

     Laelia reached the specimen container before anyone else could make a move, swooping down once again, this time with a careful slowness. Callidus stared up at her for a moment, startled. Then he saw what she intended and hastily clutched himself to the case, looping up the middle section of his body, his eyes clenched shut tight. Bloody talons that had just been used for harm now gently descended on his trembling form, her black talons closing around him tenderly, lifting him to safety high in the air along with the container he held so tightly.

“Easy, now. I've got you.” A soothing feminine voice murmured, barely heard over the wind.

     Callidus gradually managed to pry his eyes open, gasping as the ground fell away beneath him. They circled closely, heading around the clearing for the spot where Rachel and Quincy were still tucked down in the snow, trying to avoid the last hectic bursts of gunfire. He gazed up at her blankly for a moment, mind still trying to accept and process the recent violence.

     The underside of her wings and breast feathers were a beautiful snow white color, dotted and ribbed here and there with spots of black, giving her a lovely harlequin appearance. The wind ruffled through the downy feathers on her legs and chest, almost tickling him where he lay tucked securely against her body. But then he spotted an aberration, odd flecks of red dotted along her stomach, and felt his gut clench when he realized it must be blood from the dæmon she had killed. Dread settled like a leaden weight over his heart. He would be dead now, if she had not reached him in time, and so would Rachel.

“Laelia.” He managed, finally finding his words. It came out closer to a sob than anything, his voice stricken.

     She glanced down at him at that, steely gray eyes giving him a gentle assessment. He felt her talons squeeze him lightly, trying to convey reassurance through touch.

“The samples.” He gasped out, desperate to communicate his mission. “They must stay safe. They _must_ get back to the ship… whatever else happens to Rachel and I. The CDC requires it.”

“Very well, Callidus.” She reassured him, her voice serene and commanding. “I will see to it that your case makes it back to the ship.” He felt her pause, and add teasingly, “along with both you and Dr. Scott, of course. No need for heroic sacrifices... _yet_.”

     Callidus barked out a short laugh at that, hardly believing she was trying to lighten the mood while they both were circling the last bursts of combat below. The rest of Sentinel team had arrived, and they were making short work of the two remaining enemy soldiers. Callidus carefully looked away, not wishing to see their final moments.

“Thank you.” He murmured sincerely.

“Both Tom and I consider looking after your welfare as a part of our duty.” She whispered down to him in reply. “But it's also a privilege.” The words spoken so softly, Callidus barely heard them above the wind, before they were snatched away.

“It's over.” She continued more strongly. “I'll take you down now. The Captain and I wish to speak with both of you, once you're back safely aboard ship.”

 

     Captain Chandler watched carefully from the bridge as the _James'_ Seahawk helicopter closed slowly with the flight deck, matching speed with the ship and coming in delicately for a landing. Laelia circled the aircraft lazily, escorting the helicopter all the way from the island, only now breaking away to glide herself in his direction.

     He stepped out onto the port-side wing of the bridge, the small walkway open to the air. Holding out his arm for her politely, he caught Laelia to his chest as she came in for a landing. He held held her close to him for a moment, both of them relishing the warm contact after being apart so long. Eventually he pulled back a bit, working his fingers through her downy feathers and straightening out any tangles or loose straggle. Head tucked down, she nestled into the crook of his neck like a chiclet. Softly, Laelia conveyed the events of the island.

     The more she spoke, the angrier Tom felt himself become.

“Sir,” Mike called from the door. “Flight control reports our helo is wheels down and fully secured. Aaand,” he drew the word out slowly, “Sentinel team even managed to find us a prisoner.” He added with false cheer. Mariana growled lowly from beside his hip, her eyes sparking.

“He's a Russian.” She added heatedly, looking up at him and Laelia expectantly.

“Slattery, with me.” He spoke coldly, turning back to enter the pilothouse. Laelia hopped back to her usual place on his shoulder, her silver eyes gone to hard steel.

“OOD has the deck.” He announced, meeting the eyes of Lt. Granderson for a moment before he and Mike made their way below, heading swiftly for the flight deck.

“Where's Dr. Scott?!” He demanded immediately, turning to glare accusingly at Burke and Green, who were hovering over their Russian prisoner.

“She's banged up pretty good. Doc's looking at her in Hangar Two.” Green replied, meeting his eyes for a moment, before dropping his gaze at whatever he found there. His German Sheppard Hailey sidled up to his leg, nosing Danny's knee in silent support.

     Tom eyed the two for a moment, closing his eyes and letting out a breath of frustration. Laelia hummed quietly beside him, putting both himself and Lt. Green at ease. He turned at last to the Russian laying on the deck, slowly bleeding out.

     He reached down to the man and lifted him by his tactical vest, thumping him back hard onto the deck. Laelia hopped down a moment later, pinning his Silver fox dæmon to the deck by it's neck, talons tightening in a threatening hold.

“Why are you here? What are you after?” Tom hissed at him in Russian, trying hard to keep himself from hauling back and punching the guy. After a few moments the man's eyes finally managed to focus in on him, and he started muttering hoarsely, grabbing desperately at Tom's jacket to pull him close.

“The cure, the cure! Everyone was dying, we had to find… the cure.”

     His eyes dilated out after that, and he slowly slumped to the ground, dead. His dæmon dissolved silently beside him, her last look filled with agony. Tom turned to Laelia, feeling her own distress at the news, expression carefully closed off.

“All our guys are accounted for, minor injuries only.” Mike interrupted at last, somewhat hesitantly. “What did he... have to say?”

     Tom glanced down a moment, running a hand over his face wearily.

“It was a cure, Mike. He said he wanted the cure.”

     Both of them stared at each other for a moment, all the other SEALs of team Two falling silent around them. Then, the four of them, Tom and Mike, Ana and Laelia, turned as one to stare at the little black case resting innocently beside their Seahawk's landing gear, clamped shut with bio-hazard stickers plastered starkly to the front and sides of it. The Captain huffed out a breath and snatched it up, his movements irritated but still careful. He turned abruptly and moved away from the group, heading resolutely for the second helicopter bay.

“Are we at war with Russia?” He asked his XO wryly.

“Get me Fleet Forces on the line. If they don't answer, get me NMCC. And if _they_ don't answer, get me the _god damn_ SecDef.”

“We're supposed to be radio silent.” Mike grunted, hurrying to keep pace as he strode over the deck.

“Not anymore.” Tom growled, Laelia loosing an angry call that pierced the ears of everyone on the deck, finally feeling their frustration boil over.

     Rachel hissed as she gingerly bent to flex the muscles on her back, feeling the skin tug on the edges of her island dressing. Callidus hissed in sympathetic commiseration, curling over her shoulder to inspect where the shrapnel had grazed her shoulder blade.

“I told you I'm fine, just hurry up. Where's Quincy? I need my samples.” She snapped at Doctor Rios, who held up his hands in an exasperated gesture, backing away from her as he shook his head.

     Everyone in the helo bay looked over as the Captain stormed into the hangar, his eagle cawing angrily at anyone who got close, flapping in agitation. The commotion almost made her miss the familiar container in his hand, she stared at it for a second, before dragging her gaze up to meet the incensed Captain's.

“You don't get your samples until you tell me what's going on here.” He demanded, holding the case out before her tauntingly. Rachel felt her irritation spike, shooting him a venomous glare.

“You have no authority over me...” She said, voice choked with indignation. Tom meet her eyes, his grim look feeling like a punch to the gut.

“Everybody out!” He ordered harshly, clearing the helicopter bay of all personnel except for themselves.

     As soon as the room was empty, Tom's shoulders seemed to drop a fraction. Some invisible weight lifted momentarily off his back. Beside her, Callidus slid wearily from her lap, moving to the edge of the cot to wind about himself defensively in a tightly coiled circle. Laelia made a small sound at that, leaping off of Tom's shoulder to glide to the cot, perching herself gingerly next to Callidus.

     The two dæmons gauged each other, waiting to see if the other would pick a fight. But then Laelia shuffled closer, bending down carefully to run her beak tenderly over Callidus' coils, as if to check for injury. Callidus held still for a moment, unsure what to make of her, before eventually settling back down, submitting himself to her gentle inspection.

     Rachel softened at that, the actions of his other half demonstrating so clearly that even in his anger the Captain was a kind and gentle man. She felt his soothing gaze sweep her body, inspecting the area where her island bandage peeked out from the edge of her tank top. She pressed her own hand over the wound reflexively, sighing in exhaustion. The Captain's grimace turned sharper, trying, she knew, to reign in his unhappiness at their situation.

“You need to hand that container over to me right now.” She began quietly. “Even one crack to the casing could kill everyone aboard this ship.”

     His eyebrows rose sharply at that, holding the case out a little farther away from himself, suddenly being very careful with how he gripped it. After a moment's consideration, he approached her somewhat gingerly, setting the case down delicately next to her on the cot, crouching in front of her. He threw her a look she was tempted to call apologetic, if she didn't already know him better.

“We may have just gone to war with Russia, and they were clearly after you.” He told her bluntly, trying to convey the difficulty of his current position. “No more secrets Doctor, you _need_ to tell me about the cure.”

     Rachel suddenly felt helpless. What he was asking of her, she _couldn't_ give him.

“I can't say anything… until I speak to the National Security-”

“I swear to God! I will throw your research overboard!” Chandler exploded, hands curling into fists at his side as he shot up to loom over her on the cot. Rachel couldn't help flinching at his sudden outburst, making him lean away again a moment later. He studied her face carefully, before adding resolutely. “I want answers!”

     Rachel released a shaky breath, gathering herself to answer him.

“You want answers?” She asked harshly. " _Fine._ "

“Seven months ago, outside of Cairo, there was an outbreak… a virus of unknown origin. It's genetic structure was like nothing any of us had ever seen.” She paused for a moment, gazing helplessly at the deck as those horrifying moments in Egypt passed through her mind's eye.

“It swept throughout the village, killing everyone that it infected. Egyptian officials claimed the outbreak was contained, but it wasn't.” She shook her head sadly, Callidus making a mournful noise beside her. Laelia had concluded her inspection of Cal's person, and now laid herself beside him, spreading one wing protectively over his curled form.

“Instead, it continued to mutate and spread. The CDC and the WHO wanted to sample the virus from the victims to create a vaccine. But nothing worked. It was my belief that we needed to find the primordial strain here in the Arctic.”

“The birds.” Chandler said, understanding dawning his face.

“They're just the carriers. They pick up the virus from the melting permafrost.” Rachel replied, giving him a nod. “We finally found their feeding ground.”

“So you have what you need to stop this thing?” He asked, his voice lighter than before. Rachel spread her hands in a helpless gesture.

“I won't know until we get it back to the lab. We're running out of time. The virus back home is moving quicker than any of us could've imagined.”

     At that statement, the Captain's face suddenly locked down once more.

“How would you know that? We've been radio silent since we left Norfolk.” He asked lowly, a hint of a growl creeping back into his voice. Rachel sighed, dropping her gaze to her feet.

“Because I have my own sat phone.”

     The Captain's inarticulate sound of rage told her exactly how he felt about that. Laelia gave her own angry scream, leaping up from where she lay on the cot, spreading her wings threateningly. Her talons rested carefully over Cal's winding body, easily encircling his frame as she stood over him, peering down at his face. Cal lifted his head in response, winding back a tiny bit, flicking out his tongue to taste the air in her direction.

“We were at EMCON so no one would know our position!” Chandler snarled at her, lip curling in disgust.

“We were at EMCON to protect my mission, not the ship's location!” She shouted back at him, feeling tears gather at the corner of her eyes. “My orders came from the White House.” She added plainly, begging him with her eyes to understand.

     Tom sighed, running a hand over his face in resignation, as Laelia let loose a quiet sound. His eagle dipped her head after a short moment, nudging Callidus' cheek in silent apology.

“Well, you led the Russians right to us and endangered my entire crew.” Chandler informed her wearily, finally realizing what a mess this mission really was.

“It was imperative that I stay in contact with the labs back home to keep them informed of my progress.  
I don't think you understand what we're talking about here.” Rachel cried, feeling the irrational need to justify herself in his eyes.

“Enlighten me.” He hissed.

“When we left Norfolk, the virus was at Phase Two, limited to small clusters in Asia and Africa.  
We are now at Phase Six... global pandemic. The world is sick, Captain Chandler, very sick.”

     The Captain heaved a sigh, bringing a hand up to his chin in thought as he turned to pace away from her. But after only a few steps he turned back abruptly to confront her once more.

“Are you telling me the whole world is dying, and they send two people to save it?” He asked, incredulously, his eyes imploring her to say it wasn't so. Sudden pity for him and his family welled up in her heart, turning her voice shaky.

“It took weeks to convince the government to even send me here. Most of my colleagues think that I'm insane.” She answered lowly, knowing that she crushed any hope he could have.

“Are you?” He asked, unable to bear not knowing the truth any longer.

“No.” She uttered boldly, wanting to be certain they understood each other on this, at least.

“I told you before, that the samples in that case might be the only hope we have. I firmly believe this with all of my heart. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here – and I certainly wouldn't have dragged you along with me.” She whispered.

     Silence fell in the hanger bay. The two of them regarding each other with a better understanding, but with new found wariness. The freshly uncovered secrets laying open yet heavy in air between them. The stakes had been raised and the Commander wasn't quite sure what to make of this lovely Doctor, capable of both deceiving him and saving all of humanity in the very same moment.

     Into this quiet tension stepped XO Slattery, his coyote Mariana slipping lithely through his legs to trot into the room, falling back on her haunches as she spotted Callidus and Laelia, huddled together on the side of the medical cot beside Rachel. Laelia was still perched above him, wings unfurled halfway to canopy around his curled form. Callidus had moved marginally, winding himself trustingly within and throughout her wicked talons where she pinned his narrow body to the sheets.

     She couldn't take a step now, even if she wanted to, the serpent's coils wound about her legs so thoroughly. Yet neither one of them looked the slightest bit concerned at their precarious positions. In fact, Ana thought they both looked rather smug, mutually threatening and caressing each other at the same time. If the situation wasn't so serious, she probably would have cackled in delight.

     Mike shot the two a curious look, tuning his attention to the Captain. They would both file the sight away for later, as was their habit after so many long years on the homicide division at CPD.

“Captain, we have the President of the United States waiting to speak with you on vidcom.” He announced, causing Tom to turn and stare at him in amazement. Chandler studied him for a moment, a frown forming on his face. There was something wrong with the expression Mike was wearing, his eyes holding a haunted look. Something had gone desperately wrong at the White House.

“I'm sorry you had to find out this way.” Rachel murmured regretfully, pausing for a moment to gauge his mood. “Is it alright if I take my samples now?”

     He threw up his hands in helpless frustration, feeling the situation move swiftly beyond his control. Without a word he turned for the door, dreading the upcoming conversation with his Commander in Chief. What new horrors awaited him?

**Author's Note:**

> There we go! Some lovely Rachom Chandlott to feed the fandom. 
> 
> Had to make my own contribution, absolutely love this show. And as it is produced by Michael Bay, I am of the firm belief the the two most beautiful people in the show will inevitably end up together, as is his tendency. So, Tom/Rachel is only a matter of time. XD
> 
> Expect slow sporadic updates.


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